


And In The End Who Do We Have

by Lunarium



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Canonical Suicide Attempt, F/F, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-23 01:56:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11979669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: After Lalaith's death she remained watching the tale of her family unfold.





	And In The End Who Do We Have

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amyfortuna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/gifts).



Death would have no dominion over a young girl whose very soul vibrated with mirth. Though very young and the youngest in her family, she would be the first to part. As she lay, breath growing more shallow each passing minute, her family wept. 

But death would not stop her. Her mind still thought of the field her brother had rode her through, of the meadows she picked flowers at and later on fled as her brother chased her, flapping his arms and roaring like the dragons in their father’s tales. How very much she would love to see that field again! 

When she next walked the house of Húrin no one had seen her. They only wept for the body lying still and cold in her bed. But Lalaith had never felt more alive, and her spirit longed for one place in particular. 

Once her ears picked up on the babbling stream her heart warmed and with a laugh she sprinted towards the Nen Lalaith, and for many years in plain sight but never disturbed she played by the steam, sat and studied the clouds, and watched as her family rustled about.

⁂

Lalaith, by some miraculous means, had continued to grow even as a spirit. A woman tall and lithe, with hair that cascaded down to the stream, she seemed to know all that went about the lands. Often she’d find herself slipping into the Nen Lalaith and emerging from another river or lake and watching in silence as events of the world unfolded around her.

And so it was by chance one day she came upon her sister, traveling with her mother and a company of Elves. She was bathing near the lake when Lalaith peeked her head from the surface and her eyes befell on her younger sister. 

Her breath caught in her throat. Her sister was still in the spring of adulthood, and sitting there nude before her, her golden hair capturing the sunlight and clinging to her frame, arching around breasts glistening with water. 

Perhaps it was envy. Perhaps it was something else, but Lalaith found herself reaching out slowly to touch the other woman. 

_This is my sister_ came the words in her mind, in both fascination and of rue. _I could have grown to look like that. But oh! How I would also love to know her!_

⁂

Niënor’s beauty captivated both of them.

What began as envy towards her sister for her beauty had turned to envy towards her surviving brother for being the one her sister fell in love with. It was under a doom and Lalaith knew she must pity and grieve for them, but to know her sister’s heart lay with another was nearly disastrous. 

For a week the Nen Lalaith grew turbulent before calm steadied it once more. For by then Lalaith grew wise, and feared their safety. Yet no matter how often she called their names, none could hear her voice over the rushing of the streams in the rivers.

⁂

She felt Niënor’s pain. Somehow she had not felt the moment of Túrin’s passing. He was too far from any body of water, but she sensed Niënor’s turmoil. Panic mounting, she dove into the stream and swam till she found herself at the Taeglin. Looking up in time she saw Niënor cast herself out from the Cabed-en-Aras. Her cry reached no one’s ears as her beloved sister fell into the Taeglin, swallowed immediately upon impact.

Without thinking she dove back into the river and searched.

⁂

The river pressed from every angle, crushing against her neck and robbing her of breath. She wished for all thought to be gone immediately, for her shame to wash out into the looming black, for death to be quick and merciful and deliver her out of this miserable life of misfortune and fraud.

Then suddenly there was an added pressure around her wrist, and instead of pulling her down as she would have assumed it pulled her upwards. A hand cupped her cheek and lips brushed over her lips. She blinked and suddenly was looking into the eyes of some water spirit. 

It was hard to discern her from the water for she was as though part of the water itself, her mane like the river and her eyes only like the light of the sun captured into the surface of the Taeglin. But the woman smiled, and and instant calm washed over Niënor. 

The next thing she knew she was washed onto the grassy shores a little far off the Cabed-en-Aras. Sun warmed her face. A shadow fell over her just as her eyes began to flutter close, and looking up she saw the woman again. She took on more of the form of air, sunlight piercing through her frame as if she was made of golden light and wind, but below her waist she was still part river, still connected with the Taeglin. 

“Who are you?” Niënor wanted to ask, but the woman did not ask. Smiling, she swept down and delivered a chaste kiss to her cheek. Niënor shifted and captured her lips for another, their kiss lingering for long warm moments.

⁂

When she had woken again, the woman was gone, but Niënor remained by the Taeglin ever in the hopes of seeing her again. But when her strength returned, she left the river, fearing orcs or other foul beasts from Morgoth would come for her.

By now she was regarded dead among her people, and that was a tale she would not change, for she could not find it within her heart to rejoin them. But she traveled alone, with a small dagger she had found from a recent battle as her only weapon, keeping herself well hidden from the eyes of men, elves, and orcs alike. 

Perhaps by chance or fate, or perhaps it was yearning for a time she could never reach again, her feet had taken her back towards the location of her father’s house. She had wept the moment she saw the trees and ferns, and the arch of the Nen Lalaith, all still standing, and almost turned back before deciding firmly she must approach. 

“If I do not do this, I will never be able to come to terms with what was done to me, and I would only ever think of the crimes against my family with ill,” she said to herself. “I must reconnect with my family and my own history, and make peace.” 

Just as she approached, the stream began to bubble up and from the waters emerged a tall lithe woman. The water wrapped about her waist like a flowing skirt, and the sunlight caught in the long waves of sea-foam hair. Eyes glimmered like the reflected light on the surface of the stream. Though her appearance was different here, Niënor recognized her instantly, and her heart leapt. 

She regarded Niënor with a fond smile and extended out her hand. 

“Niënor, dearest one, my sister,” the woman called out. 

Niënor hesitated as grief threatened to take hold of her again. “Sister? Are you Lalaith who has passed when you were young?” 

The woman nodded. “Though my life was short, it helped me escape Morgoth’s curse. I have since resided in the waters. They keep me safe and I know of the happenings around Arda so long as the events take place near the rivers.” 

“But…a sister! Oh, what is my luck for I have fallen for first my own brother and now my own…” 

Tears welled up in Niënor’s eyes, but Lalaith laughed gently. 

“But is it not love, Niënor? And in the end who do we have but one another? Strange though our situation is, for you are alive and well and I am this spirit form. But can we not exist and love one another all the same?” 

Brushing her tears away Niënor ran into the stream until she was embracing Lalaith. 

“Then I am glad there is one in my family who has overthrown Morgoth’s curse, and become a goddess over time!” Niënor said “I will remain here, for this is our home that our father has built, and we will make it whole and wondrous again. Please promise you will never leave me.” 

“I never will,” Lalaith said. “For it appears I was given the second name after this stream for a reason. Now, my sweet sister, wash your tears in my stream and rest up. Welcome home.” 

They shared another kiss, the first of many more in their new life together.


End file.
